


Death and Destruction are Nearly the Same Thing

by Jaliee_Holmes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Death, Destiel Port Facebook Group, Laboratories, M/M, Phasing, Simulation, Superheros, Wings, powers, test subjects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-02 01:26:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17878460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaliee_Holmes/pseuds/Jaliee_Holmes
Summary: After being drugged, Dean Winchester showed up on the enemy's doorstep. Castiel helped him, but their short-lived alliance was just that. Short-lived. They both knew it would never last, but Castiel truly did not expect their twelve-year feud to end this way.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to a wonderful Destiel Port member posting a prompt, this came into existence. The second and final chapter will be up in a few days. I just needed to start a second chapter for the ending. Enjoy!
> 
> -Jaliee_Holmes

He should have known. The people here were just like that. Did it matter that all he did was good here? No, of course not. People just saw him as another person to rob and drug. Fighting to gain his footing as he stood, he felt incredibly dizzy and he could see the blood running off him in the dim street light. He stumbled into the wall, trying to figure out where he was before he passed out again. It took him a few seconds as he made his way down the street, but then it registered with him. He knew exactly where he was.  
  
His first thought after that was just how bad of an idea this was. His second was that he really had no other choice. Turning down the next street, he tried to phase through the buildings, but the drugs were too powerful. Besides, knowing his luck, he’d just manage to get himself stuck in a wall. It took a good twenty minutes to travel the three blocks when he could have normally been there in two minutes. However, there he was, standing in front of the gates. These he would have to phase through. Concentrating hard, he managed to get through and struggle to the door. He gave two rough, resounding knocks. A moment later the door opened.  
  
“Dean?” the man stared at him, confused.  
  
Dean looked up from his shoes, swaying slightly. “Didn’t know where else to go,” was all he managed before passing out on the doorstep.  
  
The other rushed to catch him, the surprise clear on his face. It was nearly 10:30 at night and the man he hated most, and who hated him, was passed out in the threshold of his front door. He picked him up with surprising ease, seeing as Dean was currently nothing more than dead weight. His foot slid to shut the door as he went to lay him on the couch. He stepped away and merely stared. They had been trying to destroy each other for years. Multiple murder attempts and kidnappings and just about everything and anything that could possibly hurt the other and yet Dean was here, passed out on his couch. He could easily just wipe him off the face of the Earth, but something stopped him. Damn these human feelings.  
  
As he observed Dean, he noticed the occasional flashing going on, as if he were a flickering TV screen. Phasing. He was phasing and he wasn’t aware of it. The man stepped up, trying to find the correct moment to find and flip the switch on his lower calf. All of them had a way to control the power they had been given. All two of them. Neither he nor Dean had asked for these powers. Before they had gained them, they had been best friends. Both had claimed that they would never allow anything to come between them. Then the strike happened. Groups of humans would just go missing and Dean and he had been in one of those groups. Most had not survived the attempt to fuse a power with their DNA. The few that did couldn’t control it and so it destroyed them from the inside out, ripping apart every molecule of their very being.  
  
So they installed switches on the two surviving test subjects. Him and Dean. For the most part, the switches worked. There were some days where even the switch didn’t work though, and on those days he felt as if he could tear himself limb from limb and it would be less painful. However, it was not the pain that tore him and Dean apart. It was the conflict of what to do with these powers they had been cursed with. Dean just wanted to do good. Be the fireman that saved the kitten up the tree. He had drastically different plans though. Why be the good guy when you could be the one person that could never get caught? Dean hadn’t liked those plans. That’s when they split ways and changed from friends to enemies.  
  
Shaking himself from memory lane, he tried to focus on what he was doing; turning off Dean’s phasing. As much as would love to destroy Dean, he also really liked his couch and would prefer it if the molecules of Dean and the couch did not fuse together. Flipping the switch quickly, the flickering steadied and Dean’s form resumed to normal. Now that they had taken care of that simple problem, he figured the next step should be cleaning up Dean’s wounds. He sighed and went to retrieve the alcohol, bandages, and tape.  
  
“Oh Dean,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Whatever did you get yourself into? Better yet, why come here?”  
  
That was the truly confusing part to him. The last place either of them would ever go was to the other. They hated each other with a passion. They attempted to destroy each other daily. Yet Dean had come here for refuge. Why had he done that? It had been years since the other came without plans of destruction. Dean’s body flickered again, causing Castiel to quickly draw his hand away. Even with the switch flipped, Dean was so unstable in mind and body that the power was still coursing through his veins. He did not want to end up fused together. It would make for an extremely awkward night for both of them.  
  
He quickly finished patching Dean up, unsure if it was the best idea to just leave him alone on the couch. After a moment of consideration, he picked Dean up again and carried him to one of his many guest bedrooms, locking the door behind him. Thanks to the drug, he knew Dean wouldn’t be up to phasing through the door when he woke and he did not want his mortal enemy having free reign of his house. He had already toyed with the idea that this was part of Dean’s plan to destroy him, but he rapidly left that notion behind. If this was some part of a greater plan, Dean would have never let him flip the switch. So he headed off to bed himself, confused but willing to do what he could to help Dean. He could easily set aside their differences for one day to help out an old friend.  
  
When Dean awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was that the bed was far too comfortable to be his own. His was an old thing that Sam had given him. He loved it, but it did not love him or his back. He carefully sat up, a wave of nausea coming over him and causing him to double over. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was phasing through some gates and… Oh no. Dean’s whole body shivered as he realized he couldn’t feel the power within him. Only one person would have known what to do about that. He quickly reached down and flipped the switch back on, giving a small sigh of relief as he returned to how he was supposed to be. Now to get out of here.  
  
He slid off the bed, feet hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. The room around him was simple in design, but useful. A dresser, a bed, a nightstand with a lamp atop it, and a closet that held nothing more than a few hangers. He headed straight towards the door, hurriedly twisting the door handle to no avail. His body was just too heavy to phase at the moment, so Dean went to the only option he had; banging on the door and shouting at the top of his voice.  
  
“Castiel!” he yelled up at the ceiling. “I know you’re there! Let me out!”  
  
While he was yelling, two things occurred to Dean. The first was that Castiel might not be out there. The man could have potentially left his home to go do what he did best, knowing that Dean would be out of commission for at least a few hours. It would only make sense. The second thing that he thought of was the fact that Castiel had had every opportunity to take him out of the picture and yet he did not. That was very confusing to Dean. Normally they were both grabbing at each other’s throats and yet Castiel had let him live. Granted he had locked him in a room, but it was still something.  
  
A few minutes later, Dean was surprised by the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. “Hello Dean,” came the rough, conditioned voice of his old childhood friend. On the inside, it destroyed Dean a little bit. This fight for power had ruined their relationship and that hurt more than anything.  
  
“Are you feeling better this morning?” Castiel asked without the usual anger that tinted his voice.  
  
Dean stared at him, stunned by the fact that Cas truly acted as if he cared. “Yes. Much better. Thank you for your hospitality.”  
  
The other man merely nodded. “I made you breakfast. Feel free to eat,” was all he said before exiting the room, door remaining open as a clear invitation for Dean to leave.  
  
Dean had never felt more confused in his life as he watched the blue-eyed man leave him alone. Normally Castiel would have jumped him by now. Maybe he made him breakfast to fool him. Dean really didn’t know. Taking a risk, he headed towards the kitchen, where he indeed found a plate of eggs and toast and sausage waiting. Castiel’s back was turned to him, the steam from the stove indicating that he was currently making his own breakfast. Sitting down on the stool near the bar, he couldn’t help staring for a moment. It wasn’t until Castiel spoke that he moved to eat.  
  
“Are you here to eat or just stare at me all day?” the man challenged, plating the eggs and toast.  
  
Quickly shoveling to food into his mouth, Dean apologized. “Yes. Sorry. I just couldn’t help but notice that your wings weren’t out,” he muttered.  
  
“Not all of us enjoy the buzz our powers give off.”  
  
It was a slight, but fatal burn. It was true, Dean did enjoy the buzz that his powers gave him. He had always assumed Castiel did too. Besides, being able to fly on command? Who wouldn’t want that? Dean had never considered that Cas would actually shut his power off, even if it was for a short amount of time. Shutting it off was essentially just a cell being broke in half.  Powering it back on wore you out since a small laser inside the switch sealed the cell back together.  
  
The two men ate in silence after that. It was awkward, being around each other and not having something blowing up. Dean finished first and rinsed off his plate, thanking Castiel once more for the meal and the place to stay. Both knew that those words would be forgotten the second Castiel pulled another one of his stunts. But at that moment, the two old friends put aside their differences and shook each other's hands.  
  
“Castiel.”  
  
“Dean.”  
  
Dean then turned away, going home to wait for his next encounter with Castiel and to plan his next attempt at killing him.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! This one isn't nearly as long and this wasn't supposed to go the way it did, but, please please PLEASE don't just up and leave. I have two more, longer and plot resolving chapters coming. Just hold on it will get better, I promise!! 
> 
> -Jaliee_Holmes

It took two days. It was honestly longer than Dean had originally anticipated. Two days and suddenly there were bombs going off and people going through walls and wings stirring up copious amounts of dust. Dean was angry. Castiel even more so. All kindness they had shown each other only a few days previous was gone. Neither had the patience for each other. Both landed on the street, staring the other down. 

“Hello, Dean. You would think you would learn,” Castiel spoke, eyes burning, yet words soft. 

“Me? Learn? You really are crazy Castiel. We all know that I don’t learn. Not easily at least.

The wind fluttered the feathers on Castiel’s wings. They were the normal pitch black and it actually reassured Dean some. This was normal. He knew how to handle this. He already knew the outcome of this situation. It made everything much easier. Cas jumped at him, blade drawn, and Dean barely phased through him in time. The raven-haired man turned towards him, blue eyes piecing Dean’s very soul. 

“Why do we even do this Cas? We never succeed. Why can’t we just go back to the way things were before?”

Castiel bristled at the words. “Don’t you think I would like that? That I would love to just go back to the way the things were before these powers? It’s you though. You insist on doing the right thing with these curses. Either way, we are damned Dean. We can’t escape wherever we may be headed. We can’t even escape where we are now. We should at least be acting upon what we want. Who cares if it’s right or not? We just need to live in the moment for once.”

“Is that why you’re trying to stab me?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, of course, that’s why I’m trying to stab you! Why else would I?” 

Dean looked away, it all suddenly making sense. He glanced back up to Cas to see the other charging him once more, but this time he didn’t duck away. The look of shock on Castiel’s face, made him give a grim smile. The other clearly hadn’t expected to actually be able to stab him. His body started to flicker as he had a few nights before. “Well Cas, I realized something,” he chuckled, slowly falling to his knees, “it has never been about what society saw as right or wrong. It’s what made me feel good. For me, that was helping people. I just wish that you had ended up with a passion that was even somewhat similar.”

“N- No…” Castiel barely got out. “No. Dean, no. You aren’t allowed to die. You were supposed to kill me. That’s how it goes. The superhero kills the villain. Not the other way around,” he hurridly cradled Dean in his arms. Watching his chest rise and fall with every little breath, Castiel quickly realized just how fragile human life was. One choice, one small action, could take it all away. “I don’t kill you, Dean. I destroy you. You kill me. That’s how… That’s how it was in all the comic books you always made me read,” he cried.

Struggling to breathe, it took the other sometime before they were able to answer. “You know Cas… Death… Death and destruction… There are nearly the same thing… Death… Death just destroys you in a different way… Also tends to affect the ones you love more.”

“No. No. Don’t you say that to me. Not you of all people. You have no right,” he rocked back and forth shielding them both with his massive wings.”Please, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry Cas. You did what you had to do to escape. That’s the one thing we both can agree on. We wanted to escape. Even if you were at fault for this, I’d forgive you. I understand. Just wish we hadn’t fought so much… Missed my friend,” his voice started to drift.

The tears escaped and Castiel inhaled sharply. “I’m so sorry Dean… I missed you too. I missed you so much…” he whimpered. 

Dean nodded softly. “I know… Be safe now Castiel. Don’t destroy anything else,” the man looked at Castiel, a tiny smile gracing his face before Cas watched that last bit of light leave his eyes. 

Something in mind clicked and he started sobbing. He felt anger rush through his veins as memories were restored and corrected in his mind. The entire world flickered around him, the only things remaining being himself and Dean. He looked instinctively towards the glass window. “Congratulations Castiel. You made it. You and your friend gave up the longest test run of our lives. It was quite a struggle,” a steel gray-eyed woman said from behind the glass. “Now forgive me for what’s to happen next, but it’s kind of required.”

Something was shot out a little hole in the wall, hitting Castiel. He knew instantly what it was as he held Dean close to him. Tranquilizer dart. Dean had been right. Death and destruction nearly were the same way. Castiel just wished that it really had been the other way around.


End file.
